


Clive Christian No. 1

by canadino



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-23
Updated: 2016-07-23
Packaged: 2018-07-26 05:11:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7561705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/canadino/pseuds/canadino
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which the Akashi Corporation manages a high-end department store. [ore] Akashi.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Clive Christian No. 1

**Author's Note:**

> A two-parter that can be read separately; this one will deal with "ore" Akashi and a prickly Midorima. The fic is named after the allegedly most expensive perfume in existence.

Midorima Shintarou had heard the rumors about the head manager of the floor, and he did not like them one bit. Well, he didn’t really hear any rumor, but he deduced. He did not have his medical degree for nothing - in fact, the only reason why he was selling tens of thousands of yen worth of men’s cologne behind glass counters was because he’d learned of the unsettling, immoral state of the medical community to date. Because he was more a follower than a doer and didn’t believe he had the ability or the guts to be the change he wanted to see, he declared that he would never work for big pharma or any major hospital as long as he lived, he had ideals to live by, dammit. His private practice drew in a meager number of patients, and he needed an alternative way to supplement his living costs. 

The rumors were this: Akashi Seijuro, elder, was going around the different departments on his floor, picking victims from kitchenware to drapery to bedding and mattresses to, now, the perfume counters as romantic partners. How shameless! The thought was offensive to Midorima. Be as they may his employees, they were not sitting ducks ripe for the picking; but despite the unspoken rule never to have office affairs, he saw a varying stream of male and female faces accompany Akashi out of the store after hours, dressed to their nines. Certainly Midorima assumed one or two people on the floor stood firm and resisted Akashi’s charms when he came calling, but it was obscene, really, how many people were falling into that honey trap. Akashi never took the same person out more than once, and he was speeding through the rosters with gusto. It was true that Akashi was conventionally handsome and was firmly established to come from a good amount of money (his father owned the whole building, stocks and shares and all, and employed his sons to run the two most lucrative floors in the store that pulled in the most monthly revenue), but Midorima had expected his peers to at least question the practice. Instead, the girls at the perfume counter gossiped as to who would be taken out next and what to wear if they were chosen. Midorima tipped his nose up and continued calmly straightening the brown and cream colored boxes of cologne. 

He had thought it was truly amazing that at least forty percent of the floor had been wooed, even temporarily, by the man and had no ill will toward him, until Midorima went out back to take a quick call from Takao, his vaguely incompetent nurse who would probably spew some pathetic excuse to why he couldn’t come in on Saturday, and stumbled upon Sasaki, crying. Sasaki was in her thirties and worked in the jewelry department. Midorima found her exquisitely beautiful for her age - women tended to look the most charming, to him, when they were older - and was taken aback. “What’s wrong?” he asked, a little tactlessly when he thought about it. 

She gazed up at him, his heart skipping a beat, and her mascara was only slightly runny. Her eyes were red though, the skin around them puffy. “My boyfriend broke up with me,” she whimpered. 

The cad! Midorima remembered now that Sasaki had been Akashi’s most recent prey. She had changed from a tasteful green blouse and black skirt to an even more tasteful deep purple cocktail dress to walk side by side with Akashi Seijuro past the cologne counter and toward the front of the store, where the Akashi car was undoubtedly waiting. She seemed sensible to Midorima; certainly she’d heard the rumors and wouldn’t have immediately called Akashi her boyfriend after one date? Still, women were mysterious creatures. “Oh,” he said, trying to collect his thoughts. 

“We hadn’t been going out for that long, but still!” Sasaki buried her head in her knees again, her hands wrapped around her ankles as her shoulders heaved. “But I thought we had a connection! And he dares to break things off through text? What kind of horrible man would do that?”  


Akashi had sent the final blow via text message? That was beyond disrespectful, but Midorima couldn’t immediately find the word to describe it. It was just that bad. “He sounds like he can’t be that worth spending your time and energy toward if he’s going to be so insensitive like that,” he said instead. 

“I know! I know I shouldn’t have gotten so attached to him, having known him for so short a time, but I couldn’t help myself.” She looked up at him again, her brown eyes watery. “You know what that’s like, right? Falling so utterly head over heels for someone that you can’t think rationally.”  


“Sure,” Midorima said. He didn’t know, but that was beyond the point at this time. He sat down next to her on the step and patted her shoulder awkwardly. “There are a lot of fish in the pond. You just happened to pull up some trash, but the next one will be a tuna.” She was looking at him funny for his analogy. “It’ll be worth it.”  


She dabbed at her eyes and Midorima wished he had a tissue or something. “You’re right. I can’t be a mess at work; it’ll look bad on the company.” Even now she was concerned about maintaining images for that bastard! Akashi was a tricky one, it seemed. “Thanks for listening...” her voice trailed off, indicating she actually didn’t know Midorima’s name though she clearly recognized him from her floor. “That was unsightly of me. Please forget you saw this.”

“Don’t worry about it. Tell me if there’s anything I can do to help.” Sasaki nodded, bowed a few times, and rushed back into the store. Midorima could feel the indignation flood his chest. So that was the game, huh? A catch and release, with no concern of the other’s feelings. If he had a chance, he would make sure Akashi would pay for playing around with Sasaki’s feelings like that - and everyone else who had tasted that one time treat. It wasn’t a treat, it was a curse of bad luck. Takao whined over the phone and said he didn’t want to talk if Midorima was going to answer so dourly.   


As lady luck would have it, Midorima’s chance for vengeance came quicker than he expected. After a successful sale of one of their more expensive bottles to an older gentleman with good taste, Midorima was tallying up their numbers so far in the day when someone tapped a finger against the glass counter. He looked up, an admonishment on his lips to not treat glass so roughly, and it was Akashi Seijuro. It was Akashi Seijuro in the flesh, black suit with a tie loose around his neck, red hair and dark eyes and a half smile on his mouth. Midorima felt his throat suddenly become dry. 

“I saw your sale,” Akashi said. “It was very well done; it takes a certain amount of charisma to convince people to buy something, but your straightforward nature gets to the point and doesn’t waste customers’ valuable time.” Midorima forgot all the calculations he had done up to that point. “I wanted to ask you something. Are you free tomorrow around seven?”  


He was the victim! He was being given a bait! He had since gotten used to Akashi batting for both teams, taking men and women left and right out to his den of sin no doubt, but it never occurred to him that he would ever be propositioned. He opened his mouth and no words came out. He closed his mouth again. Akashi continued looking at him, strategically with his head slightly bowed so he was gazing across the counter through his lashes. Dammit. Midorima put down the clipboard. 

“I think I have no engagements then,” he said.   


“Perfect; it’s settled then. Meet me at the front doors at seven tomorrow. And - not to say you’re not dressed well - make sure to come in something you wouldn’t be embarrassed to be seen in at a black tie event.” With no other indication of what the date was about, Akashi flashed another quick smile and walked away. Immediately, the perfume counter girls pounced.  


“Ooh, you got chosen!” Misaki squealed. “I’m so jealous!”  


“Maybe we’ll get called out next week,” Natsumi said soothingly. Midorima looked at them. If they were the type to not bat an eyelash at reminding someone that their time with Akashi was limited, they probably did not mind the whole set-up. “What are you doing to wear! Oh, you’ll be wined and dined. That’s what the girls in bedding said. I’ve heard of penthouses and rooftop bars and suites and - I can’t wait for my turn!”  


“Don’t believe everything you hear,” Midorima said sternly. “Looks can be deceiving; I’m sure he’s not as charming as he seems.” They shared a look and meandered back to the perfume counter, looking over their shoulders at him and whispering.   


For the date, Midorima brought in his second best suit. He wasn’t going to bother looking his best for a man like Akashi. He went about his day clear-minded, rehearsing what he would say to avenge Sasaki and any other broken hearts in the other departments. Someone like Akashi had probably been given everything he asked for on a silver platter, and there had to be someone to remind him that he was an ordinary person like everyone else, and if he wanted a personal connection with someone, he couldn't just squander it left and right. Midorima couldn’t imagine why Akashi would want to live like that - he must have gotten connected with influential daughters and sons and rubbed elbows with the upper echelon of society, so why was he targeting lowly store workers? The more he thought about it, the less sense and the more infuriated Midorima felt about Akashi’s actions. He worked himself up into a good huff by the time he changed in the employee room and strode up to Akashi, purpose in his steps. 

Akashi’s smile at him was unguarded, unlike the practiced businessman grin he had given Midorima over the glass counter. The ends of his eyes wrinkled affectionately. “As I thought,” Akashi said. “You’re blessed with more height than I am, and you really do look good in a suit.” 

In spite of himself, Midorima felt his face color. 

The black company car reserved for Akashi senior and his twin sons took them to a high-rise, where there was a fancy restaurant on one of the top floors, the wide expanse of windows giving them an unobstructed views of the Tokyo skyline at night. The place could afford to space their tables out to preserve their customers’ privacy; every dish on the menu was about the same price Midorima would pay for a whole meal at a moderately priced dig. “Please order whatever you like,” Akashi offered. “It’s on me.” He ordered an aged wine too. 

This was too much. Midorima thought back of Sasaki, curled up on the stairs in the back crying. It was dark enough he was sure his scowl was tempered somewhat; Akashi noticed it nonetheless as their appetizers came. “You don't look happy,” he remarked. “I should have asked you if you liked fusion. I know some Japanese don’t, and I wouldn’t want you to have a conversation over food you’d prefer not to eat.”

“That’s not it,” Midorima said. This was just great; Akashi was acting thick as if he didn’t know what kind of scenario he was orchestrating.   


“Then what is it?” It wasn’t confrontational, his voice soft and genuinely inquisitive.   


Midorima set his glass down. “It’s not my place to comment on the lifestyle you choose to live,” he said, “but it seems to me that it’s a risky game you’re playing here. Taking out someone new every week or so from your own employee list? As a superior, you may have impunity from any consequences that may result, but don’t you think it could affect morale? That all of us are dispensable in your eyes? That some hearts might be broken? We’re your employees, and we’re people and we have feelings too.”

Akashi looked at him for a long time before he brought a hand up to his mouth. Midorima thought he had gotten somewhere, but he realized the breathy noise coming from Akashi was laughter. He wondered, frustratedly, what it sounded like when Akashi laughed without restraint. “I’m afraid you might have gotten something else from my request to take you out,” he said finally. 

“Then perhaps you’d like to explain why you broke up with Sasaki from Jewelry through a phone message.”  


“I didn’t break up with her through a phone message; we weren’t dating to begin with.” Akashi polished the last bit of his appetizer. “You’re not joking, are you? There really has been a misunderstanding. This isn’t...a romantic dinner. I just want to have a one-on-one conversation with my employees. I don’t want to take up important business time, so this is the only time to do it; sometimes I meet people for coffee if their shifts don’t align. My father used to run both floors; he got a lot of staff complaints that they felt distanced from upper management and he experienced a lot of pushback and resistance when departments were rearranged and policies changed. I don’t want to make the same mistakes my father made, so I want to get to know all of my people personally. Itou Sasaki did mention last week that she had recently met a wonderful man and she was feeling very good about him and she was planning to bring him to our next company happy hour; I’m sad to hear things didn’t work out.”  


Midorima sat there dumbly, ignoring the waiter who asked him if he was finished with his food. “This...isn’t a date?”

“No; and neither were any of the other outings and neither will any other dinners in the future. It’s not polite to call someone out and just sit outside and chat, is it? I want you all to feel comfortable with me.” Akashi looked, for a moment, puzzled. “Was this the wrong way to go about it?”  


The perfume girls certainly loved the idea of it and that was the reason no one had a bad word to say about Akashi after their dates. “No,” Midorima said, hollowly. “No, this was fine. I just...I made a mistake.” 

Akashi smiled over the rim of his wine glass. Midorima thought he didn’t see Akashi smile very often; the man was frequently roaming the floors but he had a very stoic face when he observed and had a particular expression he showed customers. “I can’t imagine what preparing for this must have been like; although it doesn’t sound like you were very excited for it and might even have been dreading it.” 

“It was all my internal opinion,” Midorima said hastily. “I wasn’t out character assassinating you, rest assured.”   


With the air cleared, Midorima felt his spine relax and the wine was really quite good now that he could taste without an agenda clouding his senses. The main dishes were also very well made. Akashi, no longer the cackling menace to his staffers, made to be a good conversationalist, having decent things to say about even topics he didn’t seem very familiar in. He was a fan of strategy games; he was well known for his shogi prowess in college. “So was I,” Midorima said. “Although I didn’t play as officially as you.”

“We should play a game together,” Akashi offered. “I’m a bit rusty, so it might act as a good handicap to you.” Midorima still couldn’t tell if some things Akashi said were meant to be scathing, but somehow - he understood why the perfume counter girls looked forward to their time with Akashi. There was no forgetting this was his boss in front of him, but there was something drawing about Akashi’s personality that Midorima couldn’t put his finger on.

“I suppose if we’re being honest tonight,” Akashi said as they took a walk around the block, him having waved his driver away as they were in the middle of an engaging conversation about the things Midorima would change about how the floor was laid out to best accommodate the older crowd who was more likely to make purchases. “I did keep my eye out for eligible dates when I took some people out. I know that’s not professional and I would never actively pursue an employee, but - well, I’m only human.” His face was a challenge to Midorima. “What do you think about that?”

Midorima brought a hand up to adjust his glasses, hiding his mouth that was twisted into a grimace. “I don't think it’s favorable. That’s tricky and deceptive, catching someone off guard; and since you do it for everyone, no one will think much of it anyway.”

“Ah, so I see you’d rather be wooed then.”

That didn’t sound right. “I’d at least want to be able to put forth moves of my own, if I was interested.”

“But it wouldn’t be proper; that kind of office romance isn’t good for business.”

“Agreed.” 

Akashi was shorter than him by about half a head, so there was no reason to - but Midorima felt the tip of Akashi’s left pinky brush against his right hand. They had strolled off the main road down a more narrow street where the sound of revelry trickled out from the shop doors around them. A girl and her friend passed them on the sidewalk, commanding more space than necessary. Akashi stepped out of her way and then his entire hand was against Midorima’s and Midorima felt his fingers curl.   


Akashi had his car drop Midorima off at his apartment. “I have an appointment with Nakamoto Natsuki next Tuesday; but would you like to have that round of shogi Thursday evening?”

“That would be,” Midorima said, “pleasant.”  


(“Akashi-san,” Sasaki said, glancing at Midorima next to him. The bar was rowdy, but her voice carried over the din. “Erm, Minamoto-san. This is my boyfriend. We did have a rough patch but we’ve talked it out and decided that it’s a big step, but we’re going to try and make it work out. Thank you so much for talking to me!” The mousy man beside her fidgeted; Midorima now understood why he had been hesitant to commit fully to a woman like Sasaki.

“That’s perfect, that’s so good to hear,” Akashi said, his elbow pressed flush against Midorima’s, but only because the table was so crowded.)  


**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! It's been so long, but I missed writing them.


End file.
